News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-10-13

| Selkirks from the first western slopes of the
| Rocky Mountains. A turn in the road, which
| brings us at once into new series of canons
| and ravines shuts ont the sight of the Sell
| kinks, and we plunge into the heart of the
greatest chain of the continent, the Rocky
| Mountains, to which even the Selkirks,
superb as they are, are but secondary. Down
the canon into whose twilight (here perpetual
from deep ravine and darkened growth of
pine and CEDAR we have been SO suddenly
whirled, rolls a swift and narrow stream,
across which we repeatedly cross and re-cross
in the next few miles, the track clnglng above
it to a shelf cut out of the cliff, thlckly set
with tunnels trestles and sharp curves in be-
wildering succession. For ages the stream
has cut its way down through the layers of
rock until it has attained such depth that
the perpendicular cliffs above it almost hide
it from the sunlight. Above the line be
seen the old road, passable only by pack
horses and mules (and to them dangerous,
over which all materials and supplies had to
be brought before the railway could be built
The stream is the famous Kicking Horse
River, for its extent the most difficult obstacle
the railroad encountered in all its distance
from sea to The stream RACES NIGHTLY
as it forces its way through the scant ravine,
into which, to vex it further, the mountains
have cast great boulders, which break it into
masses of foam, and cause it at times to
throw up huge sheets of spray into the air.
The grade here. however, is not immoderate-
to be taken, we shall find different state of
affairs.
From the station of Field to that of Hector,
only eight miles above, the run takes an hour
and quarter, for, short as the distance is, the
difference in altitude of the two places is 1140
feet, making an average grade of about 143
feet to the mile. To overcome so abrupt q
slope two engines are attached to the train at
Field, one in front to pull, the other, a mon
ster of about 100 tons and equipped with eight
driving wheels, behind, to push the weight, as
it were, with its huge shoulders. For the first
few rods above Field the road runs over fiat
country when the train abruptly plungcs into
a ravlne even more rocky, stern and e-lnsplr-
ing than any we have before seen. The grade
here began to rise with great abruptness, ana
a hint was given of the difficulty and danger
of the place by seeing, here and there, man
standing by switch leading to a stretch OF
track which had been built on level ground on
the inward side of the line. The duty of these
swltchmen, we discovered, was to watch as
cendlng or descending trains and if one
should break loose from the control Of the To-
comotlves, to turn the switch at once and
send the train upon the safety-level. This
flu nlshed us another instance of the care
which Is everywhere taken for the security of
the line; in fact, eternal vigilance is a
necessity on a road which, like this meets
at almost every mile some new danger.
In the midst of this system of safety
switches we come again upon the Kicking
Horse River, and into a region of SURPRISING
grandeur. Five hundred feet below, raging
and Tuning through immense banks of solid
rock, the swollen stream plunges down the
sleeps in a succession of beautiful waterfalls
and sheer above the track, rising terrace upon
terrace to height of 5000 feet, stand the fan
taStic shapes of the lOftiast of the Canadian
Rocky Mountains. Upon their tops and sides
are glaciers of ice and snow 200 feet in thick
ness, and rising above their desolate wastes
are turrets, pinnacles and towers, like the out
look posts of the Titans We sweep directly
under the meaSurclesS mass of Cathedral
Mountain, standing in lone and melancholy
grandeur above all its fellows, its irregular
form suggesting at once the massive Dom of
Cologne, the fairy pinnacled Duomo of Milan
and the golden crowned Church Of st. Isaac's
at st. Petersburg-aptly named if ever noun
tain was. Near by stood an irregular mass
very like in shape to Mont st. Michael, but
strangely topped by perfect pyramid; and
close to this appeared the counterpart of st.
Basirs bulbous-spired church at Moscow, with
many other mountains which were like moth
ing else than themselves. Every glacier pours
forth its flood every gulch and ravine is filled
with roaring brooks and rivers, the whole coun-
try echoes with the sound of many waters and
through the impenetrable forests the wind
signs mOurnfully. The scene, with Mt. Ste
phen $40 feet above the track, the loftiest
peak on the line, is indescribaby grand. Al
though it was ten o'clock in the evening be-
fore we surmounted the divide, the sun still
lOuCIeu W lOpInOSI peaks anu shea nlllu re-
Election into the valley below, n radiance to
which the fires of the laboring locomotives
added, as the open doors of their furnaces
threw a glare of lurid light into the gloomy
asles if the woodland. On the front of the
rearmost locomotive Chinaman had perched
himself at Field, and had accompanied us up
the divide. Ae had looked up at the impend-
ing crags, and down at the caring river, with
some show of apprehension. Finally, coming
under an imposing pile of rock, the train stop
ped. The Chinaman regarded the mountain,
and drew long breath. Il call that plenty
good, he said, indicating, by a sweep of his
arm, the majestic r gion that We had passed.
Emerson, who delighted in terseness and sim
plicity of speech, would have been pleased
with the remark.
The fall of night prevented us from seeing
more of the magnificent scenery of the Rock
what I have e. already attempted to describe. I
do not snow that we We're displeased at having
chance to rest our eyes and minds, nor We're